Sometimes
by dramasweety
Summary: More often than not, the nightmares came. Some nights it was old classics like finding nothing a pile of dust and a scarf sitting in the snow. One moment everything was fine, and the next… knees deep in the snow as shaking hands trembled towards the red. Pathetic little mix mantra of 'no's, 'Pap's, and 'bro's spilled from his lips. Other nights it was worse.


**Okay, I tried to write their dialogue with Sans being undercase and Papyrus' IN ALL CAPS, but it was actually rather difficult and I gave up, sorry.**

 **I don't think Sans had much fun when Flowey was in control of the timeline.**

* * *

More often than not, the nightmares came.

Some nights it was old classics like finding nothing a pile of dust and a scarf sitting in the snow. One moment everything was fine, and the next… knees deep in the snow as shaking hands trembled towards the red. Pathetic little mix mantra of 'no's, 'Pap's, and 'bro's spilled from his lips.

As desperate blubbering tears are collected into the fabric and his vision goes red for so many reasons, a very far distant part of his mind _knew_ that the one responsible for this knew his usual walking path towards the door. Whoever it was wanted to see.

 **they hurt papyrus and now they want to see *see end notes please***

Other nights it was worse.

Watching as something green snapped Papyrus' neck. Unable to do anything but be frozen in place as his body slowly turned to dust. His name tearing as a scream from his throat as he ran forward. Diving towards his brother but can do nothing but hold him as his voice gave out a small soft, "Brother…"

Alphys? Dead. Undyne? Very dead. The woman behind the door? Never knocked back.

Grillby. The dogs. The fish. The rabbits. Everyone Sans ever knew… All dust.

Sometimes, if Sans was having a more (eh) _lucky_ nightmare he'd even get to **m urd er** whoever it was behind the killings. He never remembered their face upon waking but sometimes he'd still be able to hear that fucking laugh even after his eyes were open.

What really got to him was the fact that he knew about the timelines. The restarts… the different paths… how everything around him would stop and he'd have no way of knowing it was all going to be erased.

How many times did he wake up and run straight for his notebook in that drawer? How many times could he not remember feeling his soul pounding against his ribs as he did everything he could not to sob all over the everlasting paper just to see if what he was dreaming were memories or just a terrible dream? Or perhaps something worst altogether.

He couldn't recall even if he wanted to. Between the panic, the constant nightmares, and the fucking restarts?

Eventually, it became too much.

Almost always, he'd laugh until it finally became funny.

Sometimes he went to Grillby's. Oh, the jokes he'd tell. The woopy cushions he'd place. The questions he'd dodge with a well-placed pun.

And when he would decide to have a few drinks (because who the hell could tell he couldn't), Grillby would always call Papyrus even if Sans told him not to. Even when Sans would get angry. Even when Sans couldn't remember because of either the alcohol or the restarts, he was no longer sure.

Sometimes… Sometimes he would even remember some of the previous timelines. But those blurred together with everything else.

He had stopped keeping track of the time anomalies and restarts in that stupid accursed notebook some time ago.

He stopped counting the times he had to run to the kitchen as Papyrus was making spaghetti just to make sure he was still there. And when he'd hug him so tightly just because he still couldn't believe that his brother was still alive.

When he wasn't cooking, Sans would return to his room to shake and wait until the morning would unenviably come.

Sometimes Papyrus would find him curled up like that. Something along the lines of his 'great brotherly instincts' told him to check up on him. He'd never press or ask questions. He'd just hold him until Sans could calm down enough to whimper out a couple, "Don't die, Papyrus. Please, god, I can't… I can't! Don't die, Paps! Please!"

And it'd take all of Sans' self-control not to call his cool brother a liar as Papyrus promised he wouldn't. That it was just a nightmare and nothing more.

On particularly bad nights, Sans would lose whatever control he had left and stumble into Papyrus' room. Paps would take one look at him and ask, "Nightmare?" and the nod was all he'd need in response. Papyrus would hold him close. Sans would laugh more often than not. He couldn't help it. He wanted to cry, he really did. But the tears weren't doing what they were supposed to do. All he could do was laugh. He'd laugh until the crying finally worked and his sobbing would fall to sleep.

Always… always he would shake. And when Papyrus was there…

Well, Papyrus made it easier.

And the worst nights Sans could distantly recall waking up and waiting until morning just to not hear the booming cheerful voice echo through their house. To only have a small red scarf be all that he had to wake up to. To have no one there to hold him as his shaking made him feel like he was going to vibrate into nothing. To have his laughter be all that filled the silence.

Days were easier. But not always.

He'd do his best to make sure Papyrus was happy. Because that was all that really mattered to him.

Oh, how it killed him inside to lie to him. Always lying to his cool brother. "Nah, bro. Nothing's 'brother'ing me. Everything's going to be fine."

Time blurred together. It had no meaning.

 **it was all p oi ntles s an y wa y**

Jokes. Papyrus. Grillby's. Papyrus. Shortcuts. Puns. Papyrus.

Sans fell back onto his bed, laughing as he placed a hand over his eye sockets. It was all hazy. Time didn't exist. It was nothing but nightmares and repeats even if he didn't remember the repeats.

What even mattered anymore?

Fuck.

o.O.o

Sans muffled out his scream as he shot up in his bed, hand automatically clutching his chest. He had to wipe the tears away before they could start to fall in earnest.

Papyrus…

 _Easy, there, Sans. Breath into those bones of yours. Nothing gets under your skin._

He let out a tiny chuckle before he forced himself up to his feet. His entire body was shaking, but he forced himself not to fall over. Carefully, he made his way towards the door and gingerly took ahold of the handle. The chill of the metal could be felt through his bones and grounded him in the moment.

That was the first time he had ever dreamed of a knife killing his brother…

No, now. Focus on the now.

Sans chuckled a few times as he opened the door slowly. He took small steps towards his brother's room and pressed his ear against it. He couldn't hear anything and he was too afraid to open it. Instead, he took a deep breath and headed down the stairs. A glass of water or maybe an entire pot of coffee. Then he could retreat back to his room and deal with it until morning finally came around and he could see his brother alive and well.

Just as he made it down the steps, he jumped mumbling, "Holy shit!" as rapid pounding came at the door.

Who the hell wanted them so late at night? Undyne? After hesitating only for a moment (while the knocking refused to cease even a little), Sans made his way over and slowly unlocked the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see a small figure instead. He felt himself take an involuntary step back, the image of them with a weapon in hand all too fresh.

"Kid?"

Sans only got a moment to look at them and saw immediately that their usually blank face was distorted in pain and tears were streaming from their eyes. Before he could do anything about that, however, the kid seemed to take his step back as an invitation and they took immediate advantage and ran inside.

"Eh, look kid." Sans started, unsure how to react to their distress but knowing that the human was the last person he wanted to see right now. Closing the door behind him, he watched as they ran forward towards the kitchen. "It's a little late to be over. Why don't you head back to the inn and – where are you going?"

As he was talking, the kid had been looking around the kitchen and living room before suddenly bolting up the stairs. The surprise made Sans pause just long enough for the human to reach the top. "Wait! Don't, kid!"

But the human ignored him and ran straight for Papyrus' door. They didn't bother knocking as they flung it open and dashed inside. A terrible mix of dread and fear propelled Sans forward, the nightmare too fresh in his mind. He reached the ajar doorway just in time to see a sleepy Papyrus rubbing the back of the weeping kid. The sight froze Sans in place.

"There, there, human." Papyrus started to whisper. Or, well, as close to a whisper as his bro could get. "Why so many tears?"

The kid suddenly pulled out of the embrace and began to place their hand on his bro's chest area. But they didn't stick that one area. No.

Sans watched with held breath as the kid patted out the image of a slash mark across his chest. Tiny desperate fingers tracing the exact wound still too real. The pure terror in their movement too familiar for Sans to handle.

As the child search, one thought played on repeat through Sans' mind, _Did you see it too, kid?_

Papyrus looked confused, his own tears frozen in place. Until their tiny trembling hand touched his neck. A small gesture, yet, for the quiet kid, spoke volumes as their hand moved up to where it connected with his skull. The image struck Sans again.

The slash. His head coming loose. He… believed in you…

The kid began to hiccup and the wailing began anew as they buried their small head into his chest. "I see, tiny human." Papyrus soothed, rubbing circles on their back. "You had a bad dream."

This was around the time he noticed him 'skull'-ing in the doorway. "Brother!" he declared. "The tiny human had a nightmare and needs The Great Papyrus to cheer them up."

Sans only hesitated for a spilt second before sticking his hands into his pockets. "No one better at cheering people up than you, bro."

His tears disappeared in an instant. "I am!" He cooed, eyes turning starry. But that fell as well as his brother turned thoughtful. "Actually," he started slowly. "They remind me of when you sometimes get nightmares, Sans."

This time, Sans didn't pause at all. "What can I say? Both the kid and I have a few bones to pick with our dreams."

His brother's face was priceless. "Sans…"

"Oh come on Paps. That was a real 'rib-tickler'."

"Sans!"

He was unable to resist the grin. Turning to the kid, he saw that they were watching him despite still holding desperately onto Papyrus. "Looks like his funny bone is missing. Am I right?"

As Papyrus let out a cry of frustration, Sans was pleased to see that he made the kid give a little wet chuckle. "This is serious, Sans! The human requires our help!"

"Alright, Paps." Sans shrugged, before pointing out of his room. "How about we go make them some cocoa, huh?"

"Wowie! What a great idea! Human! You'll love this cocoa. It's a special kind Sans makes whenever I got bad dreams! Makes them go away."

"What do you say, kid? Want some cocoa?"

They hesitated, looking carefully between the two before giving a nod. "Fantastic! I can also make you some spaghetti! How does that sound, human?"

When they gave another nod, Papyrus made to stand. The moment he did, though, the kid looked panicked. They made a small squeaking noise and grabbed at him again. "Tiny human?" Papyrus asked, gently hugging them back. "I understand that The Great Papyrus gives the best hugs, but if you keep this up I'm afraid you'll fall in love with me again."

The kid seemed to refuse to be deterred, though, and continued to clutch him.

"Kid," Sans tried.

There was a moment where the two brothers shared a look, lost at what to do, before they both froze as an unfamiliar and small, so very soft voice, became to whimper.

"Pa… P-Pap… Papyrus… Papyrus…"

"Human?" He seemed unable to process what was happening before that shattered. Grinning, he jumped to his feet and pulled the kid out so he could look at them properly. When he spoke, his voice seemed to be somewhere in-between cooing and squealing. "You said my name!"

The kid gave him a small smile before giving a nod. Slowly, they raised a hand and pointed at Papyrus. Then, just as slowly, whispered, "You… okay?"

"Of course, I am, tiny human! I am The Great Papyrus! And you said my name! I am overjoyed to have your first word be my name! Oh, how they grow up Sans."

The kid's face looked stuck before settling between fondness and amusement. Which suited the brothers just fine.

"C'mon then," Sans said, turning towards the stairs. "Let's get some cocoa in you."

"Yes! Cocoa and spaghetti!"

With his brother carrying the kid, Sans couldn't help but grin at the pair. "For the record, Pap; I'm pretty sure their first word was actually just 'pa'."

"Sans! You're ruining the moment!"

All his cool bro got in response was a few chuckles from both him and the kid.

o.O.o

A few hours later and both Papyrus and the kid are curled up in his race car bed after Sans had finished their bedtime story. The whole night the kid had clung to Papyrus and panicked every few minutes or so. Every time they did, they had to physically make sure there was no slash mark across their chest before they managed to calm down once more. So it seemed the easiest choice just to let the kid stay in his bed and not send them back to the inn so late. Besides, there is very little doubt the kid wouldn't have left without him.

Sans understood that feeling far more than he ever wanted to admit.

Once the two were fast asleep, Sans chuckled and quietly got up to leave. He stole one more glance at them looking both so peaceful before he strolled out. He considered just going to bed, but, shrugging, took a quick shortcut to his lab. Once there, he opened his drawer and pulled out his notebook. Quickly flipping through the first part of it, he came onto the last page that held text.

His promise he made a week ago was written and underlined several times. Below it, a quick sketch of the kid that he had drawn earlier that morning with a single tally above it (first time ever meeting). Below the face he had drawn were the words 'seems like a good kid'. Now, he picked up a pen and wrote, 'not mute. name's Frisk. reminds me of papy. is a good kid'.

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 **I am Undertale Trash and I'm not even that sorry about it. lol**

 **About my Frisk. This is their first timeline and they haven't hurt anyone. However, their timeline is so in sync with another alternative timeline where Chara/Player is on a genocide run. When sleeping, they see the actions of Chara/Player. What is really just viewing actions of an alternative timeline... they just take as nightmares. Meanwhile, Chara/Player sees the actions of pacifist Frisk and see what "could've been" and think it's punishment. But they have determination** **and resolve not to stop.**

 **I may write more Undertale. Not sure yet. Thanks for reading!**

 ***Also, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD! THIS WEBSITE HATES ME! I TRIED FOR 45 MINUTES TO FORMAT THAT LINE! Just go to Ao3 if you want to see what it's actually supposed to look like.**


End file.
